


Nyctophilia

by noshallowend



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Vampires, dark!Suga, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noshallowend/pseuds/noshallowend
Summary: “Come here. I won’t bite you,” he purrs, and Oikawa knows for sure what he means: “not now.”





	Nyctophilia

**Author's Note:**

> This work has originally been written for Oisuga-week (day 2. MOON; night, glow, hunt) long, long ago, I'm just uploading it now. You can find it on my Tumblr (also @noshallowend)

_“Are you afraid of the dark?”  
_

When it started, it was all just a careless adventure for him, a game which he played to attract the attention of his best friend, who he was desperately in love with.

Until he met _him_.

“I can give you what you want,” _he_ said, “all that he couldn’t give you.”

And Oikawa believed.

He did think it was going to be just another mischievous love adventure it seemed to be, and when Sawamura gave him a nervous look, he didn’t really pay attention to it.

“Oikawa,” he said, “are you _really_ sure you’re not going to stay with Iwaizumi?”

“Why,” Oikawa grinned at him. “Is Iwa-chan my mommy? I said I want to go to the next bar with Suga, and he doesn’t seem eager to join.”

“But…”

“What is it, Daichi?” Suga called with a wide smile. “Would you like to join us?”

“Ugh, no, not at all,” Sawamura looked sideways, crossing his arms on his chest. “You know I have to go soon. I promised Michimiya not to be late.”

Before he left that night, however, Sawamura threw another strange look at Oikawa; then at Iwaizumi, who seemed to be too preoccupied to notice this, as he was trying to shake off an innocent-looking big-eyed girl, flirting with him too aggressively for her looks; and at Oikawa again.

“Oikawa,” he said, “be careful.”

And for some reason he did another strange thing: rubbed his neck, barring some ugly scars just below the collar of his shirt.

Then he left, and so did they after a while, leaving Iwaizumi still struggling to escape from this importunate romance.

And so it all began.

* * *

“Are you afraid of the dark?” he repeats with a curious smile, and Oikawa wants to shout like “the hell, are _you_ not?” but far too soon he realizes that this is not really it.

At moments like this the uncanny feeling about him makes him creepier than the darkness itself.

That day when they left Iwaizumi in the bar, he also asked the same question, and though Oikawa was, nothing really happened, nothing much—they just had sex, and it was the craziest in his life. They did it outside, somewhere in the dark corner of a deserted street with all the lights gone out, not seeing, just feeling each other, feeling the skin burn under the fingertips and the lips leave marks which were going to show the next morning; nobody cared though.

They did it the next day, and the day after this, and so it became a kind of tradition, just for the two of them—meeting each other in the unlit, desolate, creepy places, and loving each other in the dark till the dawn. Oikawa almost forgot he was afraid of the dark before their game started to go way too far.

Sugawara pushes him to the wall, as always, and pierces his mouth with a rough, deep, passionate kiss, biting his lips until the blood comes out and then licking them until it stops bleeding, and Oikawa kisses him back, feeling his skin break out in goosebumps as the cold hand slides under his jacket…

But when he looks up at Sugawara, something changes in his face, and Sugawara is no longer himself. He pushes him harder and bites his neck, and the more he does, the more and more painful become the bites. He tears his flesh and pushes his nails deep into his neck, and Oikawa suffocates under these hands. Then he manages to escape somehow, so he runs away down the dark narrow lanes, desperately looking for a way out, knocking on the doors, but never finding a shelter.

And so the hunt begins.

Oikawa rushes through the night city, hoping to find some help, just someone, but the city seems to be dead, and there is no one to help him. This all feels just like a bad dream, a nightmare soon to be over when the morning comes; but Oikawa still feels the deep wounds on his neck from the last night sting painfully, so he runs away, faster, faster.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” he hears, “There’s no need to. I will find you anyway.”

Faster. Faster!

“You can’t hide, Oikawa. I know where you are.”

The voice draws closer, so he runs, runs, runs—fast as he can, but he is already out of breath, and if he doesn’t find someplace safe, it’s going to be over for him—

“Oikawa.”

Closer. Closer. He feels close as ever. Run, run, run—

“Oikawa.”

His eye catches a faint glint of light somewhere on the right, so he takes a sharp turn, dashing through the cold night air, thick and wet with mist, sticking to him, slowing him down inevitably…

“You know you can’t always run, Oikawa. You can’t run away from me. Now, be a good boy and…” – the voice fades to an indistinct whisper very close to him, right in his ear.

Last thing he remembers is the dark, bird-like shadow swooping at him, bearing its claws in his neck—it looks like a huge crow, but it feels like the darkness itself, and it swallows him; and Oikawa is drowning, drowning in this voice…

* * *

“…wa—”

He feels a strange wave of heat pass over him.

“…kawa—”

Something must be wrong. Why is he still alive—

“Oikawa.”

He inhales sharply and jumps up on his bed, short of breath, eyes wide open with the irises almost invisible because of the ink black pupils. Oikawa tries to shout, but the voice won’t come; he feels someone’s hands try to catch him, so he shakes them off, still scared of what the touch could bring.

“Oikawa,” the familiar, anxious voice starts again, and he calms down a bit, letting his eyes focus and catching his breath. “Oikawa, are you alright?”

With an uncertain feeling of amusement he finds Sugawara right in front of him, his troubled face a little too close to him, so close that he can smell the scent of his skin.

It smells nice; a pleasant, sweet, delicate odor with a faint note of flowers, salt and…blood.

“Oikawa?”

Suga stretches a hand towards his cheek, and, unconsciously, Oikawa pulls back with a gasp, next moment strongly regretting it when he sees Sugawara freeze halfway, looking very sad and slightly offended.

“Sorry,” he sighs, reaching towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek, “bad dream.”

“Anything you wanna tell me about?” He almost feels his gaze pierce through him, as Sugawara studies him very carefully, every single inch of his body—no, his soul—

Oikawa hesitates for a moment, feeling numb, paralyzed by these eyes.

“Ugh, no. It’s nothing. Really, it’s nothing, Suga-chan.”

“Really? Glad to hear it,” he almost sings these words with his voice as sweet as the kiss he gives him right after this, and as his tongue weaves tangled curves round his lips, Oikawa feels warm and… and safe.

Maybe this all was just a dream.

But the bite marks on his shoulders—the alarm clock on his phone which didn’t go off this morning, his phone being for some reason out of charge—the sleepy full moon rolling down the sky just outside his window, big and bloody colored, forced out to the far end of the horizon by the rising morning sun—this is—all of it was—

Oikawa sits up; then slowly slides from the bed to take a look out of the window. The moon which seemed to be full, which seemed to be so scary the night before—now it looks as if it has lost a tiny little slice, and all its power is gone with it. Its bloody glow is now slowly disappearing in the soft hum of the street outside, the cars and the pedestrians both rushing somewhere towards the new day, hunting for every single moment of it.

Before he realizes it, the moon is already gone.

Oikawa turns back, wavering for a moment, and glances up. Sugawara is looking at him with a strange smile gently curling somewhere at the very angles of his mouth, or maybe in his eyes—he is not smiling per se, but Oikawa feels it; Oikawa knows it.

Sugawara is stretching out his arms for a hug, still—not exactly—smiling.

“Come here. _I won’t bite you_ ,” he purrs, and Oikawa knows for sure what he means: “ _not now_.”

Oikawa feels strong arms close on his neck as he is sinking in this warm embrace, all his scars being covered with kisses and licked wet and sticky, so that in the end it almost doesn’t hurt.

They lie in bed for a while, and it feels as if it won’t ever hurt again, as if it never actually did.

“You are mine,” breathes Suga in his ear, “aren’t you?”

And yes, he is. And he is happy, and he will be, ever after.

Until the dark comes.


End file.
